Signs That I Am 38+ Weeks Pregnant

• I begin every phone call with "I'm not in labor,"...
• And the person on the other end expresses disappointment.
• I disregard the importance of anything I can't see past my belly.
• I consider anything on the calendar past this weekend to be optional at best.
• Three hours of sleep at a stretch leaves me feeling quite refreshed and rejuvenated...relatively speaking.
• My one-year-old daughter already responds appropriately to requests such as "Put it away," and "Pick it up, give to momma."
• A successful day includes nobody going hungry or soiled...for very long.
• Labor would be preferable to the effort and pain involved in rolling over in bed.

There are other things I'm forgetting, I'm sure, but these are some that come to mind at the moment.

In other news, our neighbors are apparently moving out, and the banging noises during naptime and after bedtime doesn't make me cranky at all.

It's Too Much Effort to Think of a Title

So Joel and I both thought it might have been going down last night. I had two solid hours of contractions, coming every 10 minutes toward the end. They varied in intensity though...some I had to relax and breathe through, while others seemed pretty quick and minor. I have an entire Word document dedicated to recording the time and intensity of each contraction.

It was exciting enough that I spent most of the time putting together a couple of brief clinical reports so that just in case this was it, my clients wouldn't be stuck without their information because upcoming court dates do not just hang out waiting for your therapist to come back from maternity leave. Joel was all excited too; I just know he was pushing through that fantasy baseball draft as an act of sacrifice while his wife was false-laboring away on the couch next to him.

And this after an afternoon at work that made me question my sanity in deciding to work almost right up until the due date. First, upon my arrival at the office yesterday, I had to retrieve an old client file from the office basement. And I am not talking about let's hop on the elevator or even let's carefully descend holding onto the railing. I am talking about a house built in 1870 for short people with apparently impeccable balance, because there is nary a railing to be found anywhere. Not even on the stairs going up to my second-floor office, which, yes, I also had to climb after making it up out of the basement. 219 West Main Street is my Everest.

At this point, I just factor in five minutes for deep breathing and a bathroom break every time I go up those suckers. I told our billing manager yesterday that if I had to go up and down one more time, it would be her taking me to the birth center. My clients are pretty understanding, and really, it's therapeutic to get into the habit of, you know, centering yourself as soon as you get to where you're going. It's not totally selfish that as soon as I fall (gracefully) into my office chair, I propose that we "take a moment to recover from coming up the stairs, shall we?".

I made it through a whopping four hours of work, and it really wasn't soooo bad. I could count on two hands and a few toes the number of times I stopped listening to my clients because I was noting the time and subtly deep breathing through an intense Braxton-Hicks. Which, I am pretty sure they are still Braxton-Hicks. They don't hurt, per se, but I can't always walk or talk through them.

In summation, yesterday it was as though moving more than two muscles simultaneously would result in a wave of contractions. Which apparently did not constitute "the real thing" because I am sitting here blogging about it instead of treasuring my first moments with our son.

Speaking of sitting here on my rear, Mikayla is a champ. I have never seen such a content one-year-old (not that I had hung out with very many until I became a mom). When I comment on what she's doing, she looks up at me as though realizing for the first time that "oh, you're still here?". I choose to interpret this as a sign of secure attachment and advanced emotional development, rather than proof of my neglectful tendencies over the past few months. I mean, when the garbage truck pulled up this morning, she still leapt into my arms for reassurance. Securely attached, thank you very much. I can provide references if you'd like to read further. You believe me, right?

Thanks for joining me, this has been my 38-week pity party. Tune in next time for more on the whiny, tantrum phase we seem to be entering...and maybe I'll write about Mikayla, too.

(p.s. don't be fooled, pregnancy is one of the most blessed experiences of my life. All the discomfort is more than worth the promise of a new little soul to nurture and love!)

SDG :)

To My Full-Term 2P

Sweet baby boy, I know your big sister gets most of the attention at the moment because she is on the outside, and learning all sorts of new things every day. But you know what? You are so close to my heart, with me wherever I go, and your presence is so precious to me whether it's obvious to others or not. Today we have been together for 37 weeks, which means you could really decide to be born at any time now! And my sweet, we are so ready for you! My arms are longing for your tiny form, to hold you close, and I look forward to the long hours of nourishing and soothing and diapering you around the clock.

You seem like a mellow baby so far. You kick and roll and exercise your little muscles, but I don't think you have quite the vigor that your big sister did in my belly. I wonder if this will carry over in your personality after you are born, whether you will seem quiet and peaceful, or whether you have just been fooling me so far. I've also noticed that you hardly ever get hiccups, which is another marked difference between Mikayla and you! You are lower at this point than she was, though, and constantly remind me of your position with pressure on, well, everything. My hips feel as though they are spreading open with every step, and you squish my bladder especially when I stand up, as you settle down into place. Rolling over at night is quite the challenge too, as you are growing and gaining weight every day.

At my midwife appointment last week (36 weeks), Nancy said that you are moving lower, head down, and that my body is starting to prepare for your birth. I was 1.5 cm dilated and effacing nicely. I've had a burst of nesting energy lately that makes me wonder how soon you will be here, too. Sweet boy, have I mentioned how very excited we are to meet you?? I am so eager for that first labor pang that tells me you are on your way!

So don't wait too much longer, ok?

All my love,
Momma

37 Weeks Tomorrow, and READY!

The post was dated January 1, 2011, but the events described took place on New Year's Eve. I had cleaned the kitchen and rearranged the utensil drawers. Mikayla was born about two weeks later. I wish I had noted when I reorganized the entire basement.

Fast forward a little over a year, and we find ourselves in a similar predicament, hoping for a similar outcome.

It has really only been the last few weeks that I have felt Really. Stinkin. Pregnant.  As in, tossing toys onto the floor from the couch in hope that it will keep Mikayla amused. And then asking her to bring them back so we can do it again. Repeat. Thankfully, she is turning into one helpful, obedient little girl! (Today she brought her snack container over to me from the diaper bag, asking "please! please!" with her hand motions. So I am placing small handfuls of Cheerios, raisins, and walnut pieces on the couch next to me. We are golden for the next 15-20 minutes.)

This morning, I was sitting on the couch just praying to keep my eyes open until her nap. When she went down a little before 10, what did I do? Did I flop onto my own bed, thankful for an opportunity to nab a bit more sleep? Did I engage in a peaceful, sitting-down activity such as the several that are on my to-do list? (i.e. make a client list with phone numbers in case of early labor, fill out PPLE scheduling form, etc.) Of course not. I grabbed a can of Pledge and a rag, and went to freaking TOWN in our bedroom.

(Full disclosure: I first typed "a can of furniture duster stuff", but then realized that it has an actual name that sounds slightly less idiotic.)

Everything up there is dusted. Dressers, nightstands, top shelves, bottom shelves, hall tables. Also. There are items in garbage bags that we have been holding onto for, if not our full 5.5 years of marriage, then darn close. (As an aside, I hope Joel approves the blond mullet wig for departure, but that is neither here nor there in my story.) Once everything was dusted and gone through, I also organized every drawer that opened, as well as under our bed, a space I haven't dared look at since Christmas. My stars. I don't know how I kept getting up and down and around the whole room, but it certainly seemed worth it at the time. Wore me plumb out, and then of course Mikayla woke up.

So here we sit doing the lazy snack thing and hoping lunch time just maybe passes us by today (ha ha) because, FINDING food and GETTING it ready and HEATING something up and POURING drinks and CLEANING up afterward. It can just be too much for a girl sometimes, you know?

So anyway, all that to say, I hope that Saturday's shopping trip and closet weed-out combined with the ridiculousness of this morning means that this is the two-week warning, as it was for Mikayla. How about you? Did you have a flurry of nesting activity a certain time before your baby arrived?

Am I The Only Round Momma-To-Be?

Consider this a plug for our local thrift store, the Goodwill that is just around the corner from our house.

Having just finished my EPPP (Exam for the Professional Practice of Psychology, or, Question Your Career Choice for Four Hours In a Small Room) yesterday, I decided to spend today doing things that I just, you know, felt like doing. Well that and ironing all the shirts Joel has been hanging on the closet door for the past three weeks and that I have been ignoring "because I have to study". Please don't feel devalued, fair readers, but once the ironing was finished, shopping for a few new (to me) things fell juuuuust above "finally blogging again" on my to-do list.

And seriously? There are some women in the Akron/Ephrata area who have seriously cleaned out their closets lately, and who know how to shop. I scored eight tops, one hippie skirt, and one pair of Caribbean Joe comfy pants for me, and two skirts, one dress, and a top that goes with both skirts for Mikayla. All for $45. I don't mean to brag, but I brought home brands like Ann Taylor, Banana Republic, The Limited, and Old Navy. My new pants went straight into the birth center bag; nothing like a little something new to make you feel pretty after giving birth, right?

Also, you might get a kick out of my criteria for today's purchases. Comfy and modest, good for wearing to church or work when I need to nurse/pump. I operationalized these criteria by asking myself the following questions: 1) Can I get this on (mostly) over my pregnant belly? 2) Is there any way Mikayla could stuff something down inside the front of this when I'm not looking?

If the answers to those questions weren't Yes and No, respectively, then on the hanger it stayed. And yes, Mikayla was there to dutifully help me decide.

I can only imagine what was running through the other shoppers' minds as they watched me waddling through the non-maternity section, and heading into the fitting rooms with all my items. Most of it was probably along the lines of "Oh honey...I don't think so."

This leads me to the second part of the post, which is a rant against current maternity styles.

The (longer, stretchy) tops I found in the regular women's section fit better than anything I tried on from the maternity rack. Seriously, I'm not sure who they think they are designing clothing for. What is the point of material that stretches (barely) around your girth if it stops 3/4 of the way down? Pregnant women are supposed to have large bellies, right? The problem is compounded by the fact that I work in an upstairs office, so my clients get a potential view of my underbelly as I waddle down the stairs to fetch them every hour. Gotta cover that business. You'd think the maternity clothing designers would be all over that. But they are not. Just thought you should know.

In conclusion, I brought home my purchases and proceeded to weed all the no-longer-fitting maternity clothing from my closet, replacing them with new, non-maternity but, in some cases, more accommodating items (makes perfect sense in month 9 of pregnancy, right?). I remember doing this when I was pregnant with Mikayla...toward the very end, bagging up all my maternity stuff to return or put away, feeling so D-U-N with this long growth process and eager to reverse it. Not to mention so. ready. to meet this little one who spends all his time tirelessly kneading my insides!

That about sums up my day. It's terribly mundane, I know, but there's nobody else around to tell, and nobody twisted your arm to read this far, did they? And if a trip to the Goodwill was blog-worthy, how uneventful has my life been lately? Study study study, with short breaks for food and bathroom. Sigh. I'm even cranky when I have a chance to edit. Must be time for bed!

God is good...next post: a recap of His recent faithfulness (to debunk the whole "uneventful" notion I just set forth; set aside some time, it might get lengthy!). SDG!

Week 29 Update

I don't know about you, but I can hardly believe that we are in week 29 of this pregnancy already! Third trimester is here, and I am visiting my midwife every other week. I'm measuring right on target for belly/baby size, and my weight gain is still definitely low compared to last pregnancy (although Christmas cookies have not helped at all, whatsoever). Overall, I feel good. Little 2P is getting bigger by the minute and continues to do plenty of flip flops to let me know he is healthy and strong!

Life has been so busy, which I'm sure contributes to the blinding speed of this pregnancy. Christmas preparations and celebrations, work responsibilities, studying for the EPPP (licensure exam for me). Oh, and watch for a blog post covering Mikayla's first birthday parties (!!). One happened just after Christmas in New Jersey, and the other will take place when we visit my parents in January, closer to her actual birthdate. Spoiler alert: this girl loves cake!

And the nesting? OH my my. Despite nursing a cold and sore throat for the past four days, I was upstairs yesterday clearing out drawers in the nursery and reorganizing the hall closet to make room for 2P's things. I have a TON of boy clothes, thanks to my dear sister passing along some of Elijah's clothes, and a few friends who also had boy clothes to give. My goal today, if I have the energy, is to do yet another clothing swap, putting away Mikayla's 9-12 stuff and pulling down the 18 month bin. And we will be ready to set up crib #2 as soon as we invite a friend over to help Joel move the mattress and box spring up to the attic, since we took the guest bed down a few weeks ago.

Phew!

This flurry of activity is, I'm sure, related to the start of the New Year and my closing in on the week 30 mark. In my mind, "after the holidays" and "January" have been the objects of my baby-prep procrastination. And now that those are actually drawing quite, quite near, the reality of having this baby soon is hitting me (well, us, if I may speak for Joel as well). Once we are into January, this baby will be here in just two months! Yikes! And I need to fit in a licensure exam and wrapping up loose ends at work before it all goes down.

Overwhelmed? Not at all...ok yes, a little...but with a supportive hubby who is finished with school (a Master of the Masters!), we should be able to get all these preparations knocked out in a timely manner.

Off to wash some diapers...and organize some baby clothes...and then collapse into a heap of sick tiredness for awhile. Stay tuned for "during" and "after" pictures of the nursery as it transitions from a one-baby room to a two-baby circus!

SDG!

Just Don't Play "Butterfly Kisses"

I am super emotional this morning and I'm not sure why. Not really tired, not really stressed. Just...pregnant! And thinking about our little man ever since I woke up. The moment my eyes opened this morning, I felt him kick and I called him by name. Good morning, precious boy!

Thinking about it brings tears to my eyes.

Also, I started to cry listening to Indelible Grace's version of "The Church's One Foundation". The line where "the great Church victorious shall be the Church at rest" just got to me. I don't know, people, I'm just reporting the facts as I experienced them.

So now I'm sitting here just eating some breakfast (homemade raisin granola bars fresh from the oven; slightly crumbly, but oh so buttery and delicious) and every time I feel our son wiggling around in my belly, the emotions are almost overwhelming. I suppose these are the moments a second-time-momma ought to cherish and treasure in her heart. My firstborn is sleeping peacefully and it's just little 2P and me enjoying each other.

But as with most momma moments, this one is not to last very long. My sweet sister in law Becca is on her way to visit with her kiddos, AND sister in law Amy, who is by far the coolest aunt among us (sorry Becca...I've come to accept it already, personally) is planning to stop by this afternoon, too! Dinner is in the crock pot and granola bars are made, but do you think I look remotely presentable? Time to dash through the motions of making myself fit for company and then back down to do the same for this poor kitchen!

SDG!

Go Team Blue!

She squirted warm goop all over my belly. She pressed the ultrasound wand down with a squish. And what should we see immediately on the screen but a clear view between 2P's legs. There is no doubt that Mikayla has a little brother!

Here are a few less-invasive photos of our son that we were able to bring home:

He had his little hands up to his face the whole time, as if sucking his thumb or, at times, together as though he was saying a little prayer. But we caught a glimpse of his precious face and, providentially, we were in the room with the new ultrasound machine, equipped with 4D capabilities! So we have a close-up, albeit slightly lumpy, photo of our little man. Isn't technology amazing??

In that first moment when we saw that it is a boy, his name sprang to my lips, and tears sprang to my eyes. Hello, my little son! The whole rest of the ultrasound session, as our wonderful technician narrated her measurements and pointed out organs and parts, I kept thinking, "There is ____'s little heart, beating strong and clear. And there are his tiny feet, and his hands. Look, ____'s spine is perfectly formed!" It struck me that this was the closest, most intimate view we could have of him. Even after his birth, we will only be able to look at him from the outside...but at this moment, we were actually exploring his whole little body, inside and out, beholding how fearfully and wonderfully he is made. What a sweet blessing to a momma's (and dadda's!) heart, to know that our child is healthy.

And of course, as soon as we left, my nesting energy and motivation kicked into overdrive as I began to visualize all of the preparations that we need to make for our son before he comes home. We can take down the guest bed this afternoon, right? Good thing I bought that crib bumper for $5; we can get the crib from Laurie and have the nursery set up by this weekend. Because it's so important that he have a place to sleep 19 weeks before he's born.

How grateful we are to the Lord for granting us this baby out of the abundance of His grace. Seeing his little form and face make it all so real that we will be welcoming him in a very little while. We can't wait to meet you in person, sweet son!

SDG

Banana Baby (21 weeks)

According to people who know, 2P is about the size of a large banana this week. About 7 inches long and 11 ounces in weight. Although 2P has grown by leaps and bounds in the past few weeks, he or she has lots of room to wiggle around yet. And we are feeling it! Last night, with his hand just below my belly button, Joel felt kicks for the first time! When 2P has active spurts, he or she seems to be a little more consistent than Mikayla was. I remember sitting and hoping she would kick again so her dadda could feel it. 2P was not nearly so difficult to keep track of, kicking and flipping around probably 5-6 times within a few minutes so that Joel kept sayin, "ooh was that one? I felt that!" It's so much fun to sit and talk about whatever needs talking about, and be able to react together when we feel little 2P do a cartwheel. I love this part of pregnancy!

There are, however, parts of which I am slightly less fond. To this list I would add both fatigue and morning sickness, which have returned with a vengeance this week. The heck? At 21 weeks I should be enjoying my adorable baby bump while still feeling energized and nesty, not moaning and hoping Mikayla will understand why Momma just wants to lie on the couch today. And why no, she may not sit on top of 2P because it will only make things worse.

The Lord is gracious in this season of weakness, however. It seems that at the times when I feel most tired and most sick, my work schedule just providentially opens up, allowing me to rest. This week, for instance, just as I feel slammed with exhaustion and illness, I had only two appointments yesterday and two again today...one of which canceled, allowing me to be home all evening. What a blessing, to both me and my clients, since I doubt the words coming out of my mouth would be very helpful with my brain turned off (and oh, it is turned off when I feel this tired).

So little 2P, you are reminding me of the very beginning this week. Except now I know for sure exactly why I feel the way I do - there is no doubt of your presence as you wallop me in the bladder, tailbone, whatever your little tootsies can reach at the moment. And as you increasingly take up residence out in front of me. One client said just last week, "So, are you having twins or triplets?" I guess that means it's getting obvious? I know I'm not THAT huge though, simply by comparing my weight gain to where I was last time around. I have gained a total of 10 pounds and I'm pretty sure it all goes through the doorway before I do. Joel commented to me maybe a week ago, as I sat at the kitchen table, that if he didn't know I had a belly underneath the table he'd never know I was pregnant. Of course, it is also in his job description to say things like that...and he is experienced now in the art of managing a pregnant wife...but I'd still like to say there is at least a grain of truth to what he said.

And at least he hasn't asked me to scoop ice cream lately...

Tomorrow: Anatomy/gender ultrasound!! Tune in tomorrow for some (Lord and baby-willing) exciting news!

2P Popped!

Anyone wondering when in the world we were going to get around to our first belly pic of the pregnancy? Yeah, me too.

Confession: I was pregnant with Mikayla at the same time that my SIL was expecting #2, and I was completely engrossed in every developmental milestone of every week. At the drop of a hat, I could have told you how far along I was (probably in hours) and the precise size of my growing baby and which organ systems began to function that week. I wondered why in the world my SIL was neglecting fun pregnancy details like the belly progression pics.

I bet it had nothing to do with running around after her firstborn. It's not like that takes time and energy away from constantly focusing on your growing belly. (Yeah...Enter Mikayla, the most eye-opening little person in my entire life.)

So my first belly photo at almost 18 weeks will hopefully represent my eating of a little crow and a newfound understanding of second time (and third, and fourth...) mommas-to-be. Blink and you miss weeks and fruit-stages (is 2P the size of a grapefruit? kumquat? cantaloupe? Who knows!). All I know is that 2P is a lovely size to serve as a seat for Mikayla when I carry her around. (Not the last time she'll sit on her little sibling, I'm sure.)

Sunday, October 16 (17.5 weeks):

Ignoring my dire need of a haircut for a moment, I think we can agree that hello, 2P!

For the record, since I use this blog as a journal of sorts (I'm turning many of my previous entries into a Pregnancy Scrapbook for Mikayla), I have only gained about six pounds so far. I lost about five pounds right off the bat due to morning sickness, gained it back around the end of the first trimester, and now have gained another six. This is a serious improvement over my rapid and ongoing weight gain with Mikayla; I am hoping to gain about half of what I did with her, which was about 50 pounds. (Yes, seriously. What in the world.)

In other news, from the sounds I'm hearing right this second, Mikayla can apparently reach the doorknob of her room from the comfort of her crib. I'm pretty sure she can't actually, you know, get out.

Guess I'd better go check. Still no time for navel-gazing for this momma...

SDG!

Heartbeats and Flutter Kicks

Little 2P, you must be growing up! I listened to your heartbeat last night, and sweetie you were putting on a show. Usually when I use our borrowed doppler to listen to you, I get the swish, swish that lets me know you are nearby, and I am hearing the pulse of your blood flow. But last night, you must have been front and center, pushing out toward the front of my belly to say hello! From within a few seconds of placing the doppler against my skin, I heard a strong, loud pounding that told me I had found your very heartbeat. It was so loud that your dadda could hear it from a foot or two away, while the earphones were snug in my ears! I just kept listening to that bam, bam, bam and felt so grateful that you must be a healthy, strong baby already. I couldn't take my ears off you!

I've felt a few flutters over the past few weeks that I think are you, too. Particularly in the last several days, you have popped and kicked. Often it happens so fast that I wonder whether I really felt anything, and I press my hand to my belly to see if I can feel you again. What a tease you are, because I never feel you twice in a row :). But I know you're in there, making your little presence known.

Everyone at work knows about you now. I told them last week at our staff meeting. They are so excited! I was a little worried about what they would think of me taking another maternity leave so close to the first, but all they could say was how fun it will be to have you and Mikayla so close in age :). And my clients have been excited to learn about you too. What evidence that regardless of our differences or our struggles, we all view a new life as a precious gift from the Lord. Excitement over a new baby is something that seems to draw us all together, from clients in my office to strangers at the grocery store. It is such a blessing to have so many rejoicing with us over your life, sweet 2P.

In a few weeks, Lord willing, we should be able to have an ultrasound that tells us whether you are a little brother or sister. I can't wait to begin calling you by name!

SDG

As Promised: Mikayla's Very Interrupted Nap

I shall strive for brevity in this post, but since it is my way of journaling, please bear with me as I also strive to capture each detail of this precious unfolding of events.

On Tuesday, July 5, 2011, I awoke at the early hour of 5:30 a.m. feeling suddenly and terribly ill. It was a nauseating combination of that woozy low-blood-sugar sensation and the feeling of being too hot all over, with the distinct possibility of throwing up everywhere to keep things interesting. It was not altogether unlike "the spins" which, you know, I have heard from a friend of a friend might sometimes happen after an evening of too much libation. Around 6 or 6:30, I sent Joel from the room for a cold washcloth and ultimately from the house for ginger ale and pepto bismol. Both of which I swigged generously upon his return. I canceled everything, believing myself to have come down with a nasty stomach bug.

In the next few days I continued to feel rather continuously nauseated, even as I muscled through supervision and appointments at work. By Friday, when I was still feeling ill, Joel and I were starting to wonder what was up. Over the weekend, the sickness seemed to come and go (but it mostly came), making it still difficult to eat much. We began to murmur between ourselves that it seemed an awful lot like the days of morning sickness but...Mikayla is only six months old, I am nursing her throughout the day, I haven't had any signs of returned fertility, and besides, do you remember how long it took us to conceive munchkin? It couldn't be...

I even took a pregnancy test to be sure. And it was negative. So were the next two... (I tend to be compulsive about pregnancy tests; that one wasn't positive, but what if I take one in five minutes and it IS??)

Now, I wasn't opposed to talking about baby #2. As I tell people, we were starting to talk about thinking about when trying for #2 might be on the radar. My goal was to have my postdoc comfortably finished and my license in hand before another child would arrive, but I also didn't want to wait TOO long.

With our discussion of morning sickness coming and going along with the nausea, I decided to order some cheapie pregnancy tests online on Sunday of that weekend, and promised Joel that I would hold off until they arrived later that week to test again. Besides, the sickness might clear up by then anyway, and it made no sense to keep wasting money on expensive tests at the store.

So Sunday night I dreamed that a baby suddenly and enthusiastically appeared in my belly and was trying to kick his way out. We're talking Alien-style attempts at hatching himself free of my body. Freaky, and when I woke up on Monday I thought you know...that is the kind of crazy vivid dream I used to have all the time when I was pregnant. Pretty much as soon as Joel left for work, I hustled Mikayla into the car and headed for the Dollar Store, my promises to hold off on testing completely forgotten (by me, anyway). I grabbed a couple of the cheap blue-dye tests and we headed back home.

I put munchkin down for her nap shortly upon arriving at home, and set about the process of, you know, creating the necessary conditions for taking a pregnancy test (read: lots of water). In the fullness of time (see what I did there?), I took a test and....the faintest of blue lines that only an experienced POAS-er would be able to detect. What?!?!

The emotions that swept through me were too many to recount. Tears sprang to my eyes. A positive pregnancy test was simultaneously the greatest shock and surprise to my eyes, but also the greatest confirmation of what I had known in my heart for almost a week. Oh, the song of praise and thanksgiving that went up from my spirit as I sat just taking in the sight of that little plus sign! Proof of a tiny, living person inside me! If Mikayla is our miracle baby because of all it took to conceive her, how much more is this unexpected child a miraculous gift from God? I almost laughed at this bounty from His hand.


This is the part where Mikayla becomes a victim of her momma's crazy.

After staring for two minutes or two hours, I jumped up and flew into Mikayla's room to share the thrilling news with the only person near enough to tell. Poor girl! I snatched her up from her crib and swung her around, bleary eyed, holding her close to me as I sang out that she would be a big sister. I showed her the pregnancy test, which she promptly attempted to eat. I just know that was her way of expressing her delight.

And because you just can't trust a faint line on a blue-dye test (and because I realized I shouldn't be washing my food down with pepto bismol anymore if I am pregnant), I immediately hustled Mikayla BACK into the car and over to the grocery store where I went through the checkout line with a baby on my hip, and a pregnancy test and bottle of Maalox in the other hand. Yes, ma'am, this is exactly what it looks like, why do you ask?

When Joel arrived home from work, he found (a sleepy) Mikayla in a bright yellow bib on which I had written (quickly and non-decoratively), "I'm the big sister!" The look on his face was priceless, and I know he was excited even though his first action was to take the Sharpie-fuming bib off of our infant daughter. Hey, I didn't have much time to plan the daddy-announcement, I did what I could. Besides, I'm pregnant, I do silly things! We spent several minutes in disbelief and excitement together, snuggling with Mikayla on our bed as we kept laughing, starry-eyed, and asking each other, can you believe we're going to have another one??

So, little 2P, you were not exactly on our radar ahead of time. But your absence from our plan is all the more proof that you were most certainly in the Lord's plan for us, long before I felt the first effects of your presence. Sweet, tiny one, you have started more with a bang than a whisper. You are precious to us already, and have brought great joy and laughter to our lives as we tell others about how bountiful and gracious our great God is to us. We can't wait to meet you, and see what our Father has in store for your life!

As always, soli deo gloria!

Breakfast!

Poor little 2P is starting life at a disadvantage. With Mikayla, I worked full-time at the hospital through my first trimester, and while I thought it was the worst thing EVER to drag myself in there at 8:00 a.m. every day (I still don't disagree with that opinion), I did get free breakfast at least two mornings a week in the hospital cafeteria. My standard order was two scrambled with green pepper and cheese. Nowadays, my breakfast often consists of a small handful of cheerios and the stray oatmeal and yogurt I lick off my fingers while I feed Mikayla. Perhaps a few slices of banana if I'm feeling selfish. But this morning? This:

(Yes, I took the photo on the couch. 

I may have cooked breakfast, but that doesn't mean I'm completely civilized.)

I recreated my old favorite. Why don't I make breakfast every day?? Oh wait...because I have an eight month old who waits for no man (or pregnant lady) when it comes to nursing, diaper change, and breakfast in rapid succession. Phew. By the time she goes down for her nap at 9, I am often ready to do the same. But occasionally, hunger wins out and I actually make breakfast for myself. Yesterday I was all motivated to eat, and discovered that my box of cereal was gone. It had been long enough that Joel managed to finish my frosted shredded wheat. Sigh. We have also gone through a gallon or two of milk since the cereal came home, so I guess I shouldn't have been terribly surprised.

Anyway, off to eat my two scrambled with green pepper and cheese (emphasis on the cheese, obv) before my daughter wakes up. Five minutes ago. The life of a blessed momma :).

The Flip Switched

This is the story of a transformation that defies all logic and understanding. An answer to prayer, if ever there were one.

The back story is that this pregnancy has been a little rough for me. I have felt sicker more often (I actually lost rather than gained weight in the first trimester, though I am now back to pre-pregnancy weight), and the fatigue has just been killer. Some of this is due to the fact that I'm now starting my days at 7:00 a.m. whether I feel ready to or not...although thinking back, I was working full time through my first trimester with Mikayla so I was certainly getting up early then as well. So maybe this pregnancy really is worse.

ANYWAY.

All this to say I have been slacking horribly on things like laundry, dishes, menu planning, paperwork at work. Anything that has not been mandatory for paycheck or basic survival has gone out the window for at least the past month. Our frequent travels have not helped me stay up to speed on any of this, either.

Fast forward (or rewind or whatever) to this past Tuesday when for some reason, I looked around and realized...HOLY BANANAS, there is so much to do and so little time to do it! I was anticipating flying to New Hampshire for a wedding weekend, not to mention working the equivalent of several full days this week, and wondering how in the world the clothes are going to get clean and the notes are going to get written and the groceries are going to get boughten. The icing on the cake was Mikayla choosing to just, you know, be NEEDY all day. Not cranky, per se, but she certainly didn't want momma doing anything that didn't involve kisses and giggles and food (ok, mainly food).

No wait, the ACTUAL icing on the cake was that I'm freaking pregnant and, as I told Joel recently, I am tired IN MY LIFE. It all came together in a perfect storm of hormones and overwhelmedness and holy bananas I might need to cancel work today and just find a cave to cry in. (Mikayla is into bananas right now.)

My solution? Make a list! And create a calendar! I spent my last half hour before work (I couldn't come up with a satisfactory way to say to clients, "I can't see you today because I am freaking out".) on Google calendars actually scheduling all my household chores (daily, weekly, and bi-weekly with repeating occurrences, but no alarms because seriously. That's just ridiculous.)(Unlike putting your chores on the calendar, that is normal.) I then calendared the projects that I need to finish in the near future. These included catching up outpatient notes, catching up inpatient notes, organizing baby clothes, moving the guest bed into the attic, and cleaning out our hallway to make room for a bassinet.

And by "near future" I mean "the next six months" but it all FELT urgent, I promise. And I now have plans to have all this accomplished in the next ten days. Mostly in the next four days, but I decided to relax the guest bed thing because I'll probably need Joel's help and I don't want him to think I'm crazy. Like the time when I was pregnant and made him help me rearrange the nursery AGAIN because I thought it would work better. This is very, very similar to that, actually.

So, here I sit on Thursday with my outpatient notes all caught up, inpatient notes in a very good place, laundry almost finished, litter tidied (yes that's a bi-weekly chore now; Joel is the scooper but I am the tidier), office filing from the last month finished, and all phone calls returned. And tomorrow I am scheduled to dust, vacuumm, sweep, mop, and grocery shop. And I am excited about it.

I told Joel that I don't even recognize myself today. And then I realized...you know what today is?

SECOND. BLESSED. TRIMESTER.

Yesterday I officially hit 13 weeks. It's like a switch flipped and I AM BACK, BABY. Or at least I have really good intentions; I will let you know how tomorrow goes!

So first trimester went out with a bang (much as it entered, which I will detail for you in that post I promised about Mikayla's Very Interrupted Nap), but second trimester has arrived in all its glory. Thank you, dear heavenly Father, for this great mercy. Please could I stay in the second trimester all the way until delivery?

SDG!

The One Wherein My Patience Forsook Me

Little sweet pea,

Enough with the warm fuzzies. Please get here, and I mean today. Well, maybe tomorrow so your daddy can finish recovering from being up so late. But seriously, I am ready to tango.

Love,
Mama

Yesterday:
- Grocery shopping, which I thought sure would get our little 2010 tax deduction rolling.
- Baked brownies and cream puffs from scratch, which...ditto above.
- Ate spicy hot wings and laughed til it hurt, but alas, it was all in vain.

Today:
- Cleaned the kitchen and reorganized the utensil drawers (seriously, how can that not mean that labor is imminent?)
- Made two lasagnas for the freezer, which is also stocked with autumn chowder, beef stew, and some Christmas leftovers. Also some Christmas cookies that might come in handy, because when do Christmas cookies not come in handy?
- Brewed some red raspberry leaf tea to maybe start some labor.
- Commenced Day 3 of Evening Primrose Oil supplements to help prime the pump, as it were.

Tomorrow:
- All of the above (tea, EPO, etc.) plus:
- A drive up the bad part of route 222 to maybe knock this sweet pea loose. Or maybe the drive to church will be enough if we take the back roads!

To any readers who stumble across this post: Don't you dare ask the Lord to teach us patience. Don't even think about it. Seriously. We have already passed the day of the tax deduction and have a fresh health insurance deductible waiting on us to boot. At this point, let's just get this show on the road! If you are going to pray, please pray for progress rather than patience.

Or, you know, just for the Lord to bring this baby in His perfect timing, because despite what you all believe, I am not nearly as smart or wise as the God who is putting the finishing touches on this little miracle He has knit together in my womb.

My Bags Are Packed, I'm (Almost) Ready to Go

Milestone: The birth center bags are packed! One for mama and daddy, and a smaller one for our little sweet pea. I'm surprised how much we are supposed to bring for baby, but I guess the era of carrying four bags and a purse everywhere I go is about to begin :-).

Partial checklist of items to bring:
- Nightgowns/old t-shirts to labor in [I went to Second Street and found some pretty yet comfortable nightgowns for $4 each - perfect for labor, if you ask me; not that I would know yet.]
- Comfy clothes for the ride home
- Bathing suit for daddy so he can get in the birth tub with mama, if he wants [He will want.]
- Toiletries so mama can freshen up after all that hard work
- Receiving blankets and burp cloths
- Gowns and/or shirts for sweet pea
- Warm sleeper or blanket for the chilly first ride home
- Car seat, installed in car, complete with fleece zip-up liner so sweet pea will be snuggly warm
- Diapers
- Camera
- Phones & chargers
- Snacks!
- Take-out food or a plan for postpartum meal...we wish Piero's could deliver that far away!

So we are ready with the bags and a last-minute checklist. Not that I expect that sweet pea's arrival is exactly imminent, but with the holidays coming up I figure it's best to plan ahead. Also I am my mother's daughter, which probably accounts for most of the nesting and planning that is driving poor daddy crazy. That reminds me....next post, pictures of the nursery! [Because I know you are just dying to see it. Oh, the narcissism that sets in when babies are involved!]

But first, a nap...I just finished baking cookies and I am pooped!

Pregnancy Photo Shoot

My sister is amazing. She recently offered to do a pregnancy photo shoot for us to document The Belly, with benefit for both of us since she wants to gain some photography experience and start to develop her portfolio. Brittany has such a natural eye for portrait photography, especially the kind of natural, outdoor photos you'll see in our Pregnancy Album. Here are just a few samples, and you can go to her Picasa website to see the whole shoot - not so much to admire my rotundity, but to be impressed by my sister's incredible talent with a Nikon!

Pregnancy Album

These were taken at 32 weeks at the park next to the Reading Public Museum.

The Self-Flagellation Begins

27 weeks and 6 days pregnant, and I've officially had my first moment of explicitly believing that I am a terrible mama.

Full disclosure: I may or may not be posting about this because I want all of you to tell me that it wasn't my fault, and I am a wonderful mama, and it is just the pregnancy hormones speaking evil to me.

Last night I went on a desperation run to the corner store in search of something quick and cheap for dinner. It was a long day at work, and frankly that was all I could seem to muster as far as meal planning. I ended up with a can of ravioli, and there is a large part of me that believes (irrationally) that my choice of processed food led to some wicked karma (I know, I know) as I left the store.

I paid for my family-size can of ravioli and headed out the door, cutting slightly across the sidewalk because I parked around to the left side of the store. Well, said sidewalk happens to be just a touch uneven, and I do not have the balance and agility that I once possessed twenty-something pounds ago. It was simultaneously slow-motion, and faster than I could react. Down I tumbled onto the sidewalk. Thankfully I landed on all the most padded parts of my admittedly well-padded self - mainly on my side, which means my leg and cushy tush bore the brunt of the impact. But I think my belly at least bumped the sidewalk a little bit, because I instantly entered panic mode worrying about the baby. A couple of well-intentioned young men asked if I was ok, and since I was able to get up by myself (a small miracle, when I think about what it takes to get up off the couch most days) and walk it off, I answered in the affirmative.

But once I was in the car? A torrent of emotions overtook me, and I immediately began to cry. This did not help my efforts to prod my belly for baby movement, since my crying was causing my tummy muscles to contract all over the place. I was a mess, I promise you.

Now for the icing on the cake: We live within a five-ish minute walk from the corner store. Just up Main Street. No biggie, right? Well. When I left the store, the universe decided to completely thumb its nose at me by holding a parade on Main Street. At 7:00 p.m. on a Wednesday night. The street was blocked, and I was not permitted to turn left toward my home.

There may have been a few more tears shed at this juncture.

But not many, because how hard is it to circle a few blocks and go home by a different route? Mentally calculating - I can't circle right because of the park behind our house, but if I circle around the other way I can come out almost directly across from our driveway. They have to let me use Main Street to pull into my own home, don't they? Don't they??? Ok, deep breath, we can get home.

Mind you, I was still emotionally fragile at this point, but even at my worst I can drive around the block to get home. Or so I thought.

I turned left onto Broad Street and discovered....the parade lineup. Complete with roadblock and fire engines. Deep breath. Ok, let's turn right and go down the next block. Which happens to be a dark alley that dead-ends at somebody's garage. Oh universe, how you hate me.

A few more tears were absolutely shed at this point, stretching my three-point turn into an eight-ish-point turn, but I made it back out of said dark alley. Thankfully my emotional havoc did not completely neutralize my problem-solving skills, and I did eventually make it home.

But when that parade went by, you better believe I sat with my back to the front porch and thought hateful thoughts.

Oh right, back to the point of the post. Sitting at home and devouring my canned ravioli, I berated myself for my laziness with food planning, which led to my choice to purchase cheap processed food for dinner, which led to me falling and possibly RUINING our baby, and which also led to me nearly not surviving the drive home from the blasted corner store. My mind, it can be dramatic. And for the first time, it told me that I am a terrible mama and how can I be trusted with the innocent life of a tiny, helpless human being?

It's ok now, I am better, and the baby still has a heartbeat and soccer-playing kicks and everything. But I thought I would be honest about how this experience shook me. I have certainly learned to be more careful, and to wear mountain climbing shoes and padded gear when I go out at night. I have learned not to take the well-being of my baby for granted, and that my weaknesses and carelessness no longer impact only myself. Everything I do is for my child, for my family. What a sobering, yet empowering, thought.

Thank you, Lord, for this lesson. Thank you that because you have called me yours, I don't have to wonder whether the universe hates me, but can rest in your providence. Please help me to bring every thought and fear captive to Christ, and to trust in your plan for our child. Grant me the grace to be obedient to your Word, and wise in my actions, for it is through my obedience that you desire to bless my family. But thank you, above all, that in spite of my sin and weakness you work for my good and Christlikeness, and that you promise your blessings to the thousandth generation of those whom you have called. Our baby is in trustworthy hands indeed - not mine, but yours.

And Comeback!

I'm not the superstitious type, but I'm almost afraid to write about what happened this morning. As I say "this morning" I'm checking the time and, sure enough, it's only 12:45. Almost everything I'm about to recount happened in the last 5 hours, and most of it before lunch. Hold onto your hotdogs, kids, it's about to get crazy in here.

Or rather, it was crazy until this five minute blogging break.

This morning, I had started a load of laundry and put away all the clean dishes before 8:00 a.m. Then, I ate a nutritious, protein-packed breakfast before rounding up the next load of laundry and doing the ironing. I caught up on my nutrition diary (hence the healthy breakfast - writing down your entire food intake has a funny way of....keeping you accountable...hmmm...tricky). The entire downstairs is even freshly dusted. Then, and here's where I hope you're sitting down, I sorted through the stacks of psychology journals that have been waiting my attention since - not kidding - 2008. The end of 2008, but still. Joel might have a certifiable myocardial infarction when he finds out.

And now? Third load of laundry's in the dryer, and when I've finished folding and ironing what's in front of me it'll be on to the last load of the day. Too bad Niko's sitting on my lap, I'm powerless to move a purring kitty. Her presence on my tummy also makes the baby kick exponentially more, which is not something I complain about (during waking hours).

So...anybody have an explanation for what's going on with me today? I am a completely, radically different person from Monday and Tuesday. I realize it's sunny outside as opposed to miserably and torrentially hurricaning, but could that be it? Really I don't think the weather is a sufficient cause for tears on the way to the local nursing home.

Well, enough speculating. On with the housekeeping!

Or, you know, a well-earned nap.

Pregnancy Fatigue

Lately I'm wondering whether pregnancy fatigue results from uncomfortable sleeping conditions (read: where do I put my belly when I want to get comfortable?), or from hormonal and physical changes inherent to pregnancy itself. Because I am definitely not sleeping very well, with increased difficulty falling asleep as well as several trips to the bathroom in the wee hours. I'm also developing a pattern of waking sometime in the 4 a.m. - 5:30 a.m. range and not ever really falling back asleep. So, shorter and lousier sleep unsurprisingly contribute to fatigue in the past week or so.

How tired am I? So tired that the height of my productivity yesterday was scraping the rest of my pancakes into the garbage can so that the cats wouldn't eat the leftovers.

Sure, I also went to work at the nursing home for a few hours, but that involved recurring emotional near-breakdowns during the 20 minute commute there, and driving (unintentionally) in a huge circle on the way home. So I'm not really counting that as the height of anything, except maybe of my pregnant neurosis. In my defense, the circle-driving occurred when I was in search of food and didn't realize that the Sheetz noted in my GPS was the one located a half-mile from my workplace. A pregnant woman in search of food can't be blamed for anything, really. Not even for following her GPS like a lemming on the back roads only to blink in surprise at the same on-ramp she used not fifteen minutes earlier.

In other news, we own our first Graco item! This was a generous gift from our friends Matt and Laurie, who actually had a whopping four Pack 'n Plays in their possession. The item in question is a smaller, bassinet-type Pack 'n Play for us to use during the first few weeks of baby's life upstairs, so that we can leave our big Pack 'n Play downstairs for napping and diapering purposes. Anyone who has traversed our stairs will appreciate the blessing of not transporting any Graco items up and down them on a regular basis. We are, of course, not yet in possession of a big Pack 'n Play, but we trust that the Lord will provide a place for our baby to sleep. Already we have been given a crib and the aforementioned bassinet. How gracious is our God, through our church family!

Matt and Laurie also blessed us with a changing pad and, soon, a booster seat/high chair for our nieces and nephews to use when they visit. Our house is turning into such a baby-friendly place!

Dear me, it's time to get ready for our second birth class, which starts in half an hour. I'll let you know if I learn anything important!